One love, one heart, one destiny

Europe. Part of my ♥. Thanks for the memories.

“You do not have to be good.
You do not have to walk on your knees
for a hundred miles through the desert, repenting.
You only have to let the soft animal of your body
love what it loves.
Tell me about despair, yours, and I will tell you mine.
Meanwhile the world goes on.
Meanwhile the sun and the clear pebbles of the rain
are moving across the landscapes,
over the prairies and the deep trees,
the mountains and the rivers.
Meanwhile the wild geese, high in the clean blue air,
are heading home again.
Whoever you are, no matter how lonely,
the world offers itself to your imagination,
call to you like the wild geese, harsh and exciting –
over and over announcing your place
in the family of things.”
― Mary Oliver

At the top of the mountain we are all snow leopards

The Tatry Mountains. Straddled between Slovakia and Poland. Finally I caught a glimpse of a tradition I can recognise. Loud gorals (Slavic mountain folk), pierogie, wooden carvings, oscypek (smoked cheese), horse-drawn carts, warm fires and breathtaking mountains. And snow! Soft, delicate, quiet snow. The perfect way to round off my European adventures. A blanket of white, spicy wine, walking trails and views to dream about.

“Roads Go Ever On
Roads go ever ever on,
Over rock and under tree,
By caves where never sun has shone,
By streams that never find the sea;
Over snow by winter sown,
And through the merry flowers of June,
Over grass and over stone,
And under mountains in the moon.

Roads go ever ever on,
Under cloud and under star.
Yet feet that wandering have gone
Turn at last to home afar.
Eyes that fire and sword have seen,
And horror in the halls of stone
Look at last on meadows green,
And trees and hills they long have known.

The Road goes ever on and on
Down from the door where it began.
Now far ahead the Road has gone,
And I must follow, if I can,
Pursuing it with eager feet,
Until it joins some larger way,
Where many paths and errands meet.

The Road goes ever on and on
Down from the door where it began.
Now far ahead the Road has gone,
And I must follow, if I can,
Pursuing it with weary feet,
Until it joins some larger way,
Where many paths and errands meet.
And whither then? I cannot say.

The Road goes ever on and on
Out from the door where it began.
Now far ahead the Road has gone.
Let others follow, if they can!
Let them a journey new begin.
But I at last with weary feet
Will turn towards the lighted inn,
My evening-rest and sleep to meet.”

― J.R.R. Tolkien, The Lord of the Rings

The Danube waltz

Budapest, Hungary. I haven't gotten this excited about a city since I first saw Granada. I almost want to utter that it is possibly more beautiful than Paris. There. I said it. Rode on the oldest underground metro in Europe. Saw a hand painted cathedral. A Terror Museum in old Nazi and Soviet headquarters, living history at each turn. Synagogues and statues. Embroidery and dried paprika. Romantic night lights. And the design! Art deco 'til my eyes watered, even the goddamn tram lines are styled. No wonder my parents had their honeymoon here.

 

The "home" land

I must admit I have a bit of a biased view of Katowice, where I was born. Coming back to Poland every few years is always an eye opener to say the least. Stalin-hardened interactions, coal-greyed facades, an excess of crows and kebab stands, the same wallpapered corridors ageing year after year. It was a treat meeting my mom here though, seeing old wedding photographs (wasn't my mom a doll?), eating home-cooked food, not sleeping in a dorm, seeing sketches of where I was baptised.

Makes me realise each time the great struggles my parents went through to give me and my sister a better life. A sunnier African one. But I looked hard, and some yellow pretties peeked out from hiding.

.

Mozart's balls

On my way up to Poland, I decided to break the long train journey in two, stopping in Salzburg. Good beer, cow bells, creepy Mozart mannequins and pretty clocks. Timely buses and musical pretzels. And some traditional outfits too.

The hills are alive...

Oh my satchel. Austria is the business. Look at that lake. Look at that goddamn blue lake. Walked around the circumference of it, and every 10 minutes the blue was a different hue. I have never. Albiet there was the occasional wrinkly, lone nudist. But I didn't care. My heart was so happy walking there. No wonder Mary Poppins burst into song in that one movie while she was there.

Milano in flat shoes

Nothing like a million Italians to make you feel lonely. Milan was a flood of elegant faces.  Had to make a stop there to move up through Europe, decided to take the city for what it was. A design capital. So museums, galleries and exhibitions were the order of the day. Some Leonardo inventions, gothic spires, shopping malls. And some stolen kisses too. Oh, and thanks for making me feel like a troll by the by.

The Five Lands

Big cities scare me now. So onto a ferry i hopped and went to the Italian countryside and found Cinque Terre, 5 villages (Monterosso, Vernazza, Corniglia, Manarola, and Riomaggiore) and a walking trail, the Sentiero Azzurro ("Light Blue Trail"), connecting them. Lazy fishing boats, vineyards, secret coves to swim in, octopus ink pasta, rugged cliffs and houses on top of them, washing lines and warm sun. And no cars. Because of the steep landscape, there's no way for them to enter. Bliss.